


Social Proof

by ShyPumpkin



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Choking, Dib Being Creepy (Invader Zim), Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Invader Zim: Enter the Florpus, Underage Drinking, Violent sexual fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyPumpkin/pseuds/ShyPumpkin
Summary: It was one thing for Zim to get popular, another for him to get a girlfriend. They may look happy, but Dib knows better.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim), Zim/Zita (Invader Zim)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 75





	1. Prestige

Zim last updated his FlauntBook 23 days and 5 minutes ago. Dib had been refreshing it hourly ever since. 

The photo of Zim shaking President Man's hand was an obvious fake, but after 354 likes and 233 comments, no one had mentioned it. Dib's skin pricked in annoyance, but as aggravating as it was, it didn't compare to the irritation he felt at the new picture.

Zim grinned at the camera; his arm slung around a doe-eyed Zita. 

Zim. In a tux. With a girl.

Dib's gut boiled. 

He hated Zim's button nose, perfectly plump lips, indigo eyes, deep brown skin, and thick, messy hair. Most of all, he detested how seamlessly human Zim looked. Such bullshit.

Dib slammed his laptop shut and hurled it across the room in a fit of rage.

He folded in on himself.

Fuck Zim for getting popular.

Fuck Zim for leaving him.

-*-

It never took long to find Zim in the lunchroom.

Ever since Senior year started, he'd amassed a posse that followed him everywhere, fawning over him as he shouted stories theatrically. There wasn't a dank corner in the cafeteria where you couldn't hear Zim's newest hot take on HiSkool life. Today was no different- Dib just followed the sound, and Zim was there. 

"And then I said to her- ooh you're gonna love this, I said to her-"

"Zim!" 

"I said-"

"ZIM!" 

"I SAID TO HER-"

"ZIM! SERIOUSLY!"

Zim pointedly looked at the ceiling and then to the side. He leaned forward, cupping his face with a hand before finally looking at Dib. "Well, well, well! My former nemesis. What is your business? As you can see, I'm very busy with… stuff."

"I know you're up to something, Zim!"

Zim steepled his fingers and leaned forward, his smile a touch catty. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Zita is going to figure it out eventually! And then what will you do? Huh? Huh?! There will be nowhere to hide then, Zim!"

Zim's eyes widened. Good, he should be afraid. Dib's surge of pride ran cold as Zita gripped Zim's hand. Zim flashed her a toothy smile that turned sinister as he looked back to Dib. 

"Ugh, what's with the crazy act again, Dib?" Zita said, rolling her eyes.

"I bet he's just jealous!" One of the other girls said, leaning in to stare dreamily at Zim. Dib's stomach sank.

Someone shouted, "I know I am!" Zim threw them finger guns and a wink. 

Zim chuckled. "Yes, yes, Zim IS great. Now, move along, Dib. Get your stink out of my nose holes!" He flicked his wrist in a shooing motion. 

Zim's posse began to giggle, and Dib eyed them suspiciously. 

"You testing out mind-control chips? Some kinda… brain… rotting thingy?" Dib placed his hands on the lunch table, and he leaned into glare at Zim. Zim's eyes shined with an unreadable glint. "I'm close, aren't I?"

Zim clapped. "TORQUE!" 

Dib swallowed his tongue as Torque appeared out of nowhere, belly slamming him out of the way and blocking his view of Zim.

"Get out of here, freak!" Dib tried to maneuver around him, but Torque placed his hand on Dib's forehead. 

For 5 minutes, Dib ran ruthlessly into Torque's hand, before giving up and sitting at a lunch table across the cafeteria, seething and watching Zim closely. 

-*-

"You know your boyfriend's an alien, right?" 

Zita stared into her locker, stacking her books neatly into place. She had covered her locker door with magazine cutouts and hearts and had pinned the picture from FlauntBook front and center. Dib clenched his jaw and looked away from it.

Zita slammed her locker shut.

"You heard me, right?! He's dangerous! Do you seriously not remember when he transported the Earth to a nightmare galaxy and almost destroyed our whole planet?!"

Zita scoffed. "Please, Dib, get off that. It wasn't even funny in Middle School."

"You're right! It was never funny! Because it's true!" He said, heaving a sigh, "Look, he's up to something! He's using you, and if you just tell me what he's planning, I can help you!"

Zita rolled her eyes and walked a little faster. Dib practically tripped over his feet, trying to keep up with her. 

"Dib, why can't you just leave Zim alone? You bullied him all through Middle Skool, and now that he's popular, you're just mad that everyone knows what a bully you are." She wrinkled her nose, "He told me you used to follow him and break into his house. That's creepy. Leave him be."

"I am trying to protect you. You have to trust me."

She laughed sardonically, "Ok, sure, whatever Dib."

Something wicked turned in Dib's mind, seizing on a new plan. He grabbed her shoulder, and she slapped his hand. "I saw him cheating on you this morning."

She froze in place. Dib felt a surge of happiness as his lie landed as planned. "Wait, is THAT what you were confronting Zim about?" 

"Um… yes! Yes, it was."

"Ugh, we JUST started dating! How could he do that?!" She gripped his arm with surprising strength. "Who is she?!"

Dib paused, nervous under Zita's intense, steady glare. "I didn't get a good look at her, but I heard them talking, and she said she'd be there for Zim's next big plan!"

"Wait, she's coming tonight? To Zim's Rager? Urghhh, she's so dead!"

"Wait…Rager?" Zim was throwing a party? He winced. Great. Another party that everyone had avoided telling him about. 

A look of pity crossed her face. She looked up and down the hall before reaching into her bag to pull out a flyer. "Look, don't tell ANYONE you got this from me, ok? We never talked."

Dib looked down at the bright magenta flyer with the words "Party to End all Parties!" scrawled neatly at the top. "Finally! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE UP TO ZIM!"

The kids in the hallway looked at him, and he shot them a shy smile. Zita held her hands out in front of her nervously.

He tried to smile to hide his grimace. "See you tonight?" 

-*-

Dib finished grabbing his gear out of his closet and cramming it in his bag when he felt a familiar stare boring into the back of his neck. "Gaz?"

"Where are you sneaking off to so late?" He turned to see her leaning against his doorframe, barely looking up from her phone now that she had his attention.

"Zim is throwing some kind of party at his base tonight."

"So? Why do you care?"

"Clearly, it's some kind of trap! It must be related to this!" He thrust his phone in Gaz's face, gesturing to the picture of Zim and Zita. "It's all coming together, Gaz!"

"Why do you have that as your lock screen?"

"To study it better. There might be clues in it."

Gaz sighed. "Dib, sit down."

He sat at his computer, wringing his hands together, his foot tapping. Zim could be up to anything. He was losing time.

"Look, I know you don't have much experience with friends-"

"Gee, Gaz, thanks for-" Gaz opened an eye wide to glare at Dib, and he shut up immediately. 

"As I was saying, you don't have a lot of friend experience to draw from, so you're obsessing over Zim still. Zim hasn't done anything serious since World Peace Day. You obviously didn't pay him enough attention after that, so he went and got it some other way. You don't just get to keep your friend's attention when-"

"Zim and I were never friends, Gaz!"

She huffed. "Look, whatever you call it, Zim just doesn't care about you or world domination anymore. He's gone native. You're just jealous he found other people to obsess over him."

"They aren't even obsessed with the real him!"

"So what? All of them are fake too. What are you going to do about it, Dib? Expose them all?"

"Maybe I will, Gaz! Maybe I will."

"Fine. Look, just make sure you're back before breakfast. The last time you went MIA, Clembrane cried in my room all night about how he must be a terrible Father because you ran away without leaving a note. I'll cover your ass, but you owe me one."

"Thanks, Gaz! You're the best." Dib playfully punched Gaz's shoulder, and she rolled her eyes as he bolted off to Zim's party. 

-*-

Everything appeared immaculate from the outside. A protective bubble covered Zim's base and made it look like business as usual. After passing the front gate, it was a world of chaos.

The party was a bad parody of those cliche Coming of Age movies. There were large buckets of some black tar-like liquid, cans of Poop beer, scantily clad teens, and a big inflatable Moose swaying to a strange techno beat. A person with long green hair was draped over a gnome. A robot spun fire in the back corner. Dib paused to stare at a vomit-caked hoodie someone had left on the porch, and he wondered how Zim was even tolerating this. Then, as if on command, a spider bot appeared and swept it away.

"Huh." Sometimes it irritated Dib just how much Zim had managed to figure out human culture and blend in over the years. He missed when he was the only one who noticed Zim. In some ways, he figured he still was. No one here even suspected the truth, even with the strange blob monster who was collecting coats at the door. 

A drunk girl from the grade behind him slammed into him. Dib recoiled. 

"Sorry!" The girl whined, pushing past him. 

"Seriously?" Dib muttered to himself before entering Zim's house.

It was dimly lit and packed inside, but it looked like the layout was mostly the same as Dib remembered. He looked up and noticed some weird goo smeared over the ceiling cables. Typical.

He hadn't been in Zim's house in almost six years, and Zim had done some upgrading to make the whole space more convincingly human. 

Zim had replaced the giant monkey painting with generic pictures of the city they lived in, the kind you might find as stock photos in the back of a frame. The kitchen toilet was gone. Apart from the mess of people and the mess caused by the people, everything seemed immaculate. It was uncanny, and it made Dib feel like his skin was crawling.

He shook off the feeling. He had things to do. 

He pushed his way through the crowd, sticking small microphones into the wallpaper and hoping they set up the network of bugging he was looking for. He tapped random surfaces, looking for ways into the base. He ghosted his hand over his Puppy Dog Clown from childhood, and a metallic hand came down from the ceiling to grab him.

"INTRUDER! INTRUDER!" 

He turned to run, but the arm yanked him backward and out to the front yard, forcing him to kneel before Zim. The arm let go, and he got up to run, but Torque grabbed his arms and forced him down again.

A chill crept up Dib's spine as Zim stared at him, steepling his fingers and rolling them together. Dib jerked against Torque's grip to no avail.

"Stay put, nerd!" Torque barked, and Dib threw a glare over his shoulder.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the DIB. And for the second time today!" Zim chuckled under his breath, his chest puffing out. Dib scowled as he watched Zim march towards him. "Couldn't resist following Zim again, could you?" Zim jabbed a finger into his chest. "Eh? Eh?" He chuckled again as Dib flinched. 

"I know you're up to something, Zim!"

Zim gasped, melodramatically touching his chest. "Me? No! I am an average adolescent child throwing the 'rager' that would be expected at this point in my development." 

"Is that so, Zim?! Then why aren't you drinking anything like everyone else?!"

Zim looked visibly nervous before Zita jumped in. "Dib, are you endorsing teenage drinking?! That's disgusting! Zim is a role model for not giving in to that." 

Zim's chest puffed back out, and Dib glared at him, "Oh yeah?! Then why is he still PROVIDING IT if he's such a role model?"

"Zim can't help it! His parents are never home! You wouldn't understand, what, with your father being so rich and famous. You always had everything you ever wanted! Zim had to struggle for everything!" 

A pain shot through his chest, no one understood anything, "How have you all fallen for that?! You realize it's bullshit, right?!"

Someone snorted, "Who invited Dib to this party anyway?"

Zita crossed her arms tightly, staring at the ground. Zim stood in front of her. "Oh, Dib has always found his way to my base. He cannot resist getting all up in my business with his jelly." Zim nodded, "He sure does have a lot of jelly!"

Dib struggled against Torque's grip. "That's not even close to true."

"Oh? Isn't it?" Zim clicked three times, and Torque let go of Dib's wrists. Dib rubbed them gingerly. "I will handle the Dib. Zim is done with you now, the party has been completed. You will go now." He flicked his wrist, "NOW!" 

They all nodded and left his yard. The spiders started to clean up the party decorations as Dib watched in horror. Mind control chips seemed more and more feasible.

Zim crossed his arms and shot Dib a smug look. 

"Your mind control trick isn't going to work, Zim."

"Mind control?" Zim looked confused for a moment before a vicious smile overtook him, "No, Dib, these are merely the result of Zim's superior social skills. At this rate, Zim will be crowned Ruler of the Mate Ranking Competition before it even occurs."

"You mean PROM?"

"Yes, yes, your ultimate measure of social success, whatever you call it. Zim will be the ruler of this PROM, and then all will fall before me!"

"What? Being popular in High School isn't a way to take over the world!"

"Isn't it, human? Isn't it?"

"It really isn't, Zim. You know, I thought you were a jerk before, but now I think you're an even bigger jerk."

Zim hummed and walked closer to Dib, ghosting a hand over his cheek. Dib slapped it away with a scowl. Zim's smirk deepened. "Tell me, Dib, do you find it impressive?"

"Your… party?"

"Yes."

Dib scoffed, looking aside. "It's boring. Why are you trying to impress these stupid people?"

"Try? The conclusion is foregone, Dib. They simply ARE impressed. And rightfully so! What rational creature would not be impressed by the handiwork of Zim?!" Something dark flitted over Zim's expression. Dib felt his heart jump to his throat. "They are smarter than YOU, Dib. You left Zim long ago. But now you see. Now you see that Zim is better than you."

"Better than me? Hardly! You're just another one of them now."

"ABSOLUTE DOOKIE!" Concern knotted Zim's eyebrows for a moment, and then it was gone, swallowed up by a cocky grin. "You're just jealous that I've won."

"Won? Won at WHAT?"

"At being human, of course." Zim's long fingers curled under Dib's chin, gripping and turning it up. The touch felt hot and Dib found it hard to look Zim in the eyes. "Now I have everything you want, human. Didn't you always want to be admired by your peers? Respected? And now look, look at the bounty Zim has gotten. Oh, what bounty belongs to Zim."

Dib looked down, only to have Zim jerk his chin back up. "Admit your defeat, Dib, and maybe I will make it easier for you."

"No! NEVER!"

Zim chuckled, "You cannot fool me, Dib-human. I see the longing in your eyes. I have become quite adept at recognizing your pitiful human emotions."

Dib slapped Zim's hand away again. "Have you, Zim? It seems like you don't recognize pity." 

Zim scoffed. His eyes darted to the side, and then he squared his shoulders. "Fine. But don't come begging for mercy when I am appointed as formal ruler of this FILTHY organization, and the new, superior social order is created." 

Zim whistled twice, and the gnomes dragged Dib off the yard. "Farewell, DIB. Enjoy being a LOSER." The door slammed behind him, and the gnomes blocked Dib from getting back into the yard. 

Dib stood on the street, staring after him for a long time, his heart in his throat and his head swimming with confused thoughts. 

-*-

Gaz shot him a look when he got back. He just mumbled in response and slunk up the stairs to lock himself in his room.

Why did he even care about what Zim was doing anyway?

Zim's entire plan was to climb the HiSkool food chain, which was incredibly dumb. What would stopping him accomplish? What really mattered was protecting humanity and furthering knowledge of the unknown!

At least, that's what Dib wanted to believe. 

He wasn't so sure anymore. The last few years degraded what remaining faith he had in humanity. Every day dragged on, and everyone he met seemed a little stupider. The main thing humanity did with new knowledge was to use it as a distraction from reality.

On some level, he almost wished Zim WOULD take down humanity.

He collapsed onto his bed and sunk deeper into his thoughts. How could Zim be so comfortable with humanity? It wasn't like him. 

He recalled the image of Zim and him at the party earlier that night, and his mind buzzed in anticipation. 

Seeing Zim so cocky, so proud made Dib want to push him down, to own him, to make him pay. He knew tonight would have gone much differently if he was bolder.

He imagined landing a punch to the side of Zim's too perfect human disguise, his eye swelling on the impact, blood pooling in Zim's mouth.

He wondered how good the disguise would hide it. How many times would he have to hit him? A jolt ran through his body at the mental image.

How far would Zim go to keep up the illusion that he was human? Would he let Dib push him into the dirt, kick him square in the chest? He couldn't activate his PAK with everyone around, it would make him too nervous, and he practically acted feral when he was nervous. 

Dib's body lit up, and he trailed a hand down his stomach.

Zim would surely look disheveled by this point. There's no way his disguise could hold up so well under such a beating. Dib imagined Zim covered in bruises, curled into a ball in the dirt, pink blood dripping from his mouth onto the lawn. 

His dick throbbed.

He'd love to push Zim further down, his foot on the crown of his head. Dib reached down to stroke himself, his fantasy jumping the tracks. He imagined himself on Zim's chest, straddling him as their classmates watch him claim his victory, wrapping his hands around Zim's neck and squeezing. He wondered if Zim would beg him for mercy. He imagined tightening his grip as Zim's eyes roll back. His hand sped up, pumping harder. 

He closed his eyes tightly, twisting his hand and imagining Zim gasping, begging for him to stop. He imagined Zim writhing underneath him, desperately bucking up into Dib, their hips grinding together as he attempted to regain control before ultimately surrendering and submitting.

Dib came all over his hand, the release washing over him in waves. He stared at his hand and muttered, "What the actual fuck."


	2. Property

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim climbs the social ladder. Dib cowers in shame. Who will rise to the challenge of PROM?

The sharp tang of iron tickled Dib’s nose as he entered the classroom. He shuddered as he landed foot first into a puddle of meat drippings. His eyes followed the trail of juices to a mountain of meat packages atop Zita’s desk. He scowled.

“Wow, Zita, Zim must really luuurve you!” Treenie shrilled.

Keef cooed. "It isn't even Valentine's Day! Zim is the most romantic boyfriend ever!" 

Zim stood behind Zita and wrapped his arms around her. “Yes, yes-- Zim is only the MEATIEST mate there is.” 

Dib caught Zita’s eye. His cheeks burned with shame as he forced a smile.

Zita blinked. Her eyes narrowed momentarily, and Dib shivered. 

As he retreated to his desk with a sigh, his eyes drifted to the (too pale, breakable) column of Zim's neck. It looked even more delectable than it had in his fantasies. He shuddered and struggled to think of anything else. 

An ear-splitting crack jolted him up as the door in the front of the class slammed open.

Desks clanged as students scrambled to stand up. A familiar towering silver triangular screen with arms rolled into the classroom.

_Overlord Bot._

Sharp metronomic beeps echoed against the grimy walls. 

A speaker at the bottom of the screen clicked on. 

"CHILDREN, SIT NOW." Chairs squeaked against the floor as everyone rushed to sit. No one wanted to face the Sluggish Minors Lava Pain Pit.

Overlord Bot clicked with approval. "CHILDREN, LISTEN NOW. PLAYING PRE-RECORDED MESSAGE."

The buzzing of the lights cut out. 

The room plunged into darkness.

Dib gripped his desk painfully, his eyes trained on Zim. Zim leaned back in his chair and gazed at the ceiling. He looked innocuous, as he had for too many years now. Dib didn’t trust it.

Blinding white light flooded the classroom from the screen on Overlord Bot’s stomach. 

Dib blinked rapidly, and his eyes focused on an older bearded man in a tuxedo waddling onto the screen. "Well, hello there, Senior Class of-" silence crackled for a beat. Someone behind Dib coughed. 

"Congratulations! You are all WINNERS. Yes, you! None of you were sent to the underground factories working to make our country great again. Good for you!

“Thanks to your compliance, your connections, or whatever else helped spare you, you are now eligible for OilBaron’s PROM contest." 

Dib shot a glance at Zim’s lean frame inclined towards the screen in rapture. 

Onscreen, the Baron smirked. "Of course, only the most suitable students will be selected to attend PROM." 

The camera panned out to a small child in a crisp Girlie Ranger uniform, her eyes downcast. When the tuxedoed man saw her, he clutched his chest. “What is it, small one?”

“I don’t know what PROM is, Mister!” The Girlie Ranger clasped her hands in front of her. “Can you teach me?”

"Of course, child!" He patted her head, earning him a squeal of approval, “The PROM is your chance to be approved for a Government-sactioned Romance License!”

“Can’t anyone get one, mister?”

The man forced a chuckle. “Oh, no, no. That would be barbaric! We select only the worthy.”

She cooed in understanding. The man took her hand and led her to a HiSkool gymnasium. 

Buff figures in suits stood at attention along the gym wall, staring forward at the rings of fire, vats of goo, and ladders leading up to darkness illuminated by fluorescent lights. 

The Baron walked up to a board and gestured to it. It displayed a photo of the girl under the heading “PROMboard.”

The Girlie Ranger’s eyes widened, "Mister, is being selected for the PROMboard enough?!”

The Baron chuckled, his belly jiggling, “No, my child. You must maintain a positive score until PROM Eve!” 

“What’s my score, mister?”

“Well, let’s find out!” 

The girl’s photo appeared on a screen behind him. 

A loading indicator spun under her picture for a few seconds before a large “-1” replaced it. 

An ear-splitting buzz echoed off the classroom walls as her picture transitioned to a large red X.

Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh gosh, mister, please don’t-”

She screamed as the man shoved her into a vat of goo. 

The Tuxedoed Man sauntered into a grand ballroom, "Those who gain entry to PROM will be ranked as viable suitors. Your rank will seed your potential romantic matches once you are released into Society. One suitable individual will be named PROM RULER to denote their supreme suitableness."

Zim clenched his fists with barely contained enthusiasm, a cruel smile splitting his face. Dib's stomach rolled as he forced his focus back on the screen. 

The tuxedoed man sat on a tall pyramid of barrels. "Those who fail to qualify for PROM aren’t a failure to society! They will be enrolled in career placement tests! Everyone ends up where they deserve!"

Dib's eyes narrowed. 

"Remember, kids-- life is barren without oil from the Baron!” Tuxedo chuckled and held his stomach, the OilBaron seal coming up on the screen.

The lights came back up, and the screen on Overlord Bot’s stomach turned black.

The chalkboard squealed open to reveal a screen like the one in the video. It displayed each of the 17 kids in the class with a bold score underneath. 

“That’s kinda creepy, huh?” Dib whispered to the girl that sat next to him, whose name he had never learned. 

She rolled her eyes and leaned towards the other side of the classroom. 

“CHILDREN, WRITE NOW. CRAFT AN ESSAY THANKING OIL BARON.”

Dib started jotting down his list of PROM scoring conspiracy theories.

-*-

At lunch, in the middle of presenting bullet point 3 of 26 on his list to Gaz, she cut him off. “Oh, hey.”

Dib furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, what?”

Zita slid onto the bench next to him. She smiled at his sister with a soft, “Oh. Hey.”

He pointed at Zita. At Gaz. Back to Zita. “Do you two know each other?”

Gaz shrugged. Zita stared at her for a beat and then sighed. “Not really.”

“Ohhh-kay then.”

Zita crossed her arms tighter. “Dib, look… you took advantage of my kindness, and that really sucks.”

Dib’s face burned as Gaz looked between him and Zita. He rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled out an apology. 

Zita sighed. “I’ll make this fast- did you see the girl there?”

Gaz cut in, “A girl?” She opened one eye and stared at Dib. He shrank back in his seat. 

Zita nodded, not quite looking at Gaz, “He saw Zim _with_ her.”

“Oh, did he? Funny. He didn’t mention anything about a girl to me. And I know how much he loves to mention things. ” She smirked, a small glint sparkling in her eyes, “In fact, I heard him _moaning_ about Zim all weekend.”

Dib looked away, his eyes darting around the rest of the lunchroom, his hands pulling at a napkin.

Zita studied Gaz, “What did he say?”

“Oh, you’ll have to ask Dib.” 

Zita studied Dib closely. His ears burned. “What’s the deal?”

“ _Wellllllllll_ ….” He ducked his head, burying his mouth in the collar of his jacket. “It was pretty dark when I saw them…” 

When Zita opened her mouth to respond, he rushed to speak again, “She was definitely at the party! Yeah, they were like… kissing and stuff.”

“That’s impossible, Dib. I was with him all night.”

“Oh… yeah... That was _you_!” He snapped his fingers, “Darn. I’ll be stealthier next time so that I can get better intel. Maybe you can cover for me? We’ll team up to bring her down!”

Gaz snorted.

Zita sighed. "There isn’t a girl, is there?" 

“There is. Wait! I mean, there isn’t! ...No. Wait.” He tapped his chin, “No, I was right. There _is_ a girl.” 

“Oh really.” Zita’s voice sounded flat, “Then what _exactly_ did you see them doing Friday Morning?”

Dib ran a hand across his sopping forehead. “Sorry, I just need to-” He snatched up his can of Poop Cola and took a long slurp. 

Gaz leaned across the table, “Yeah, Dib. What’s got you all _hot and bothered_?”

He choked on his drink. 

Zita patted his back until he stopped coughing.

He shot her a watery smile, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, well, the best thanks is just to tell me what you saw.”

He smiled sheepishly, “...I...don’t recall?”

She scoffed and stood up with enough force to shake the lunch table, splashing his Poop Cola on his PROM theories list.

He slumped, “Aw, c’mon, that was the last can in the vending machine!” 

She scoffed. “Like I care. Bye, Dib. Keep your creep energy far away from us.” Her eyes lingered on Gaz for a beat, and then she left.

Gaz glared at him, "That was pretty fucked up, Dib."

The PROM board agreed. By the time the bell rang, his score had dipped from 24 to -16.

-*-

Three weeks had elapsed since the PROM announcement, and Dib hadn’t spoken once to Zim.

He’d ignored Zim for no particular reason-- well, other than ignoring Zim felt good.

Ok, well, _maybe_ , one could argue, one of the reasons was Gaz narking to Zita about his _private time._

But most of it? 

Most of it was because he didn’t care about Zim’s petty plans.

Still, Zim hadn’t been easy to avoid, and avoiding him became increasingly difficult by the day.

The madness started simple enough.

Zim began to show up to class every day in well-cut, perfectly tailored suits. They hugged his lithe body, and it did _things_ to Dib-- until Zim spoke, that is. 

Apparently, Zim’s new daily routine involved standing directly in front of Dib’s desk and bragging loudly about how amazing his outfits were. 

Dib started wearing noise-canceling headphones after 3 days. 

Zim brought in a megaphone.

Homeroom had been annoying enough, but then Zim started arriving in the Skool parking lot exactly when Dib did. Driving a new car. Every day. Each flashier than the last. 

Then-- Then! Then he’d park in the spot right beside Dib and wink at him. _Arrogant._

That Friday, the Governor’s motorcade escorted Zim to Skool. The Governor hosted photo-ops afterward, and classes were canceled for the morning. That day, Zim’s PROMboard place shot up to first. 

All that bullshit aside, the past week had been the most irritating.

Dib couldn't come into Skool without finding a new flyer on his desk announcing some dumb thing Zim had “achieved.” 

So far, he'd trashed the cast list for the Spring Musical (Zim had been cast, though not in a meaningful role) and a printout of an email from Cheer Squad, welcoming Zim to the team with gushing accolades. 

Every day, Zim's PROM rank increased exponentially. He was in first place for PROM ruler, a whopping 3000 points ahead of the runner-up.

On its face, none of that really mattered.

What mattered most was the impact on his dreams.

Sure, he still had the normal ones about chasing Zim down, both of them breathless. He’d dream of the glory that came from capturing him. He’d dream of splaying him on the operating table. Sometimes, he’d dream of them sitting on Zim’s couch and watching TV.

But now were the dreams about Zim on stage, kissing Zita or Zim at the football stadium in a short cheer skirt, blowing kisses to Torque. 

_Whatever._ Dib had other, better things to worry about. He had plans! Post-graduation, he was to capture and expose the Snallygaster to the world. The Snallygaster was the _real_ threat to Earth, and he’d prove it. 

He still checked in on Zim, of course, but he only refreshed his camera feed every 4 hours. Why should he do it more often? It never changed. 

Zim had assimilated- practicing cheers, cuddling on the couch with his girlfriend, and never removing that pasty human disguise.

The Snallygaster, on the other hand? Now that was a lead worth following. Snally was an honorable menace that never lost focus on civilian murders with bullshit like climbing the social ladder.

He shoved another handful of Puffs-o-Cheese in his mouth, spilling crisps onto his bed as bookmarked Snally posts. He would find that scaly bastard if it were the last thing he did. Everyone would know his-

Gaz's phone smacked his face. Hard. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"I'm sick of watching this bullshit that you’re too stupid-" he squawked in protest, but she held up her hand, "That you’re too stupid to stop. You’re not the only person this hurts, Dib."

He lifted her phone and turned it over in his hand, squinting at it, "Is your phone possessed again? Cause it really wasn't me this time, I have-"

"Just look at the screen."

Dib played the FlauntGram video on Gaz's screen. 

Two seconds of Zita kissing Zim’s cheek as he threw finger guns and a wink at the camera looped over and over again, mocking him. 

"Oh, so, when I throw finger guns, I'm sent to the Guidance Counselor to talk about my 'shooter tendencies,' but _Zim_ gets 200 faves." He watched the clip again, his throat tight, "I don't see why you care?"

Gaz stomped over. "You're a dumbass. Look at the doorway." She zoomed in on the frame. His back stiffened.

Zim towered over Zita, his back arched, the crown of his head butted against the top of the doorway. Dib’s heart raced, adrenaline rushing through his veins. Just yesterday, Zim had been the same height as her. This meant that-

No, it probably meant nothing. His shoulders slumped. 

He handed Gaz the phone, “So what? He’s been changing his disguise to be more human for years. He’s just trying to be PROM Ruler. He thinks that means something. Can you believe that?” His laugh came out hollow.

“Look, normally I wouldn’t care- and to be clear, I don’t care about _you-_ ”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“But there are reasons to intervene with bullshit that aren’t just about saving the world. Sit back; I’m going to blow your mind. Have you ever heard of caring about people? Hard concept, I know."

“Ouch. Okay. What did I do to deserve that?”

“According to your non-stop complaining, Zim is attempting to irritate you in particular. If he’s really using other people to get on _your_ nerves, then my friend is going to get hurt. So you need to talk to him.”

“Wait. What friend?”

"It doesn't matter."

“Okay, then it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I don’t care if it matters to you- You owe me.”

“When I agreed to that, I thought you meant something like buying you Bloatys or driving you to your stupid game conventions! Not interactions with people.”

“Look, either you do this, or I do this,” She smirked wickedly, “And you wouldn’t like what I’d do.”

Dib sighed and grabbed his laptop. 

Oh, the things he did for humanity. 

-*-

On Monday morning, Dib waited in the parking lot. Zim never showed.

Dib bounced on his heels, rolling back and forth, “Ok. You only have to speak to him once. Easy-peasy. Just tell him you don’t care, you don’t like him, and you’re never talking to him again. Then you can go back to Snally!” 

An underclassman gave him the side-eye. He forced a smile, and she quickened her pace into Skool. 

He needed the conversation with Zim to be over. Avoiding Zim had been nice- nicer than this overwhelming anticipation.

So what if it also frustrated him?

He stood in front of Zim's locker, tapping his foot against the floor faster and faster. Maybe he'd just call the conversation a loss and get Gaz Bloaty's as an apology? Or tell her he did it and it just didn’t work?

“Oh, if it isn’t the Dib! Funny, I haven't seen you much since you embarrassed yourself at my amazing party.” 

Zim loomed over him. Dib’s eyes were even with the long column of Zim’s throat. It was so close. Pristine. A shudder ran down his spine. Everything he’d prepared to say flew out of his head. 

Zim hummed contentedly, “Cat ate your tongue?”

Dib huffed. “It’s cat GOT your tongue, you absolute moron.”

Talking to Zim surfaced urges he wanted to forget about. Strong urges. _Fucked up urges._ His pulse sped up. No favor he owed Gaz was worth this. He needed to leave immediately. 

_Clang._ Zim’s arms collided with the lockers and bracketed his head on either side. 

“Going somewhere?” Zim’s breath was hot and wet against his already burning cheek. “Zim didn’t say you could leave.”

“Since when do I need your permission?”

“Since I became tallest.”

“That’s not how human society works, Zim.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It isn’t.”

The one-two of their breaths synced. Their eyes locked in a challenge. 

Zim hummed softly. Dib dug his nails into his palm. Zim’s eyes scanned his face.

“I’d say my social capital proves quite the opposite.” Zim’s lips hung open, exposing his perfect _human_ teeth, his pale pink, _almost human_ tongue running across his lips.

“What, like making the cheerleading squad matters?”

“Jealous much?” 

Dib scoffed. How could he be jealous of some petty asshole normie?

Zim made a show of hunching down further. Dib rolled his eyes and tried to look away, but Zim had caged him in completely. “Even your OilMan knows my superiority. Have you not seen my prowess reflected on the PROMboard? Have you? _Have you_?”

My power has amassed so greatly that my body has expanded to reflect my dominance.”

“Yes, I’ve seen it. It doesn’t mean anything.” Dib shoved against Zim’s chest, but it did nothing to push him back. Zim’s chest seemed to be solid muscle. 

His whole body thrummed. His mind went blank. 

Zim chortled. 

”Humans don’t suddenly grow half a foot in a day; you know that, right?”

“Maybe I just got my puberty.” Zim's smile took on a menacing gleam, “Pretty nice, eh?” 

“Nice?! You looked better when you were short and green. Now you’re just… gangly.” The words were leaden on Dib’s tongue.

Zim’s eyes hardened. “Your insults don’t impact me in the slightest! They are lies. Filthy, filthy lies.” 

Zim leaned in closer, his eyes unblinking. There was something otherworldly about his irises, a light purple laced in with deep indigo. Dib’s heart pounded in his ears. “Admit it, _Dib_ , you like me better like this.”

“I don’t!” He pushed against Zim’s chest harder this time. It still didn’t budge. 

Had Zim always been this solid- he hadn’t been right? They’d had too many fights where Dib had won and pinned Zim down to watch him struggle. He wondered if Zim had dug his PAK legs in as an anchor. If he could just reach back and...

His thoughts came to a halt as Zim’s lips touched his ear. “Stop fleeing from your inevitable defeat. The PROMboard has already shown you, yes? Cease your pointless struggle, and Zim will give you what you crave.”

Dib’s hands went slack against Zim’s chest. Electric pulsed up his spine. His ears pounded, keeping time with the puff of hot breath on his ear. 

Zim’s cheek pressed against his. His skin was smooth and chilly. Dib leaned into the place where their cheeks made contact. His skin buzzed as Zim’s breath hitched, their cheeks flush. Dib’s face burned.

“Never.” He rasped. He could feel Zim against his cheek, his shoulders, the line of his torso.

Zim’s lips brushed against Dib’s ear as he spoke again, the words coming out in a purr, “Never? Or just later?"

Dib drew in a shaky breath and closed his eyes. By the time he opened them, Zim had already left.

-*-

While Overlord Bot droned on about the virtues of economic servitude, Dib snuck glances out of the corner of his eyes at Zim. 

How had Zim done it? How had he made the disguise? Was he using the PAK legs and a hologram for the height? Cybernetics? How much of the disguise was body modification? Was it real? He had felt sturdy. Warm. Far warmer than Dib remembered.

Did the warmth extend everywhere? Would all of his fingers feel solid? Were there seams in the illusion, places where Dib’s hands would slide through? 

Zim perpetually overlooked details. He liked to jump to conclusions and let hubris carry him into believing that he had solved the whole puzzle. Did that apply to Zim’s disguise? Dib had never seen Zim changing in gym class. 

He wondered if Zim had only put his effort into crafting the places exposed above his clothing-the face, feet, and hands. Did he put the same care into re-crafting his torso? His legs?

Did Zita know?

When Zim touched him, he’d been too distracted by the circumstances to process if he had gaps between his fingers. 

Zim had been toned and warm against him. Powerful. 

Something coiled tightly in his gut.

_Tap_. Dib jolted up and turned to see Keef apologetically holding a note against his shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed, and he took it, only to have Overlord Bot show up and take it away. 

“NOTE PASSING IS UNACCEPTABLE. HUMILIATION REQUIRED. PUNISHMENT REQUIRED. OVERLORD WILL NOW READ NOTE ALOUD.” Dib covered his eyes. Why did he have the worst luck? Who the hell even passed him notes?

“MEET ME OUTSIDE AFTER CLASS, YOU **censored**. KNIFE DRAWING. MESSAGE OVER.” Overload bot crumpled the note. “ARE YOU SHAMED?”

Dib shrunk back in his chair, “Yes, sir.”

“SHAME ACHIEVED. CHILDREN, LAUGH NOW.”

The class laughed at Overlord’s command until the bell rang. 

Dib had taken only a few steps out of the classroom when he was yanked backward and pinned against a wall. He struggled, pushing against his captor’s hands, “Zim! I-”

“Think again, asshole.” _Zita_.

She loosened her hold on his throat, and he gasped in a large breath. He coughed. “So… uh… you sent the note?”

“What do _you_ think, genius?” Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, “I told you to stay away from Zim and me, and what do you do?! Make out with him in the hallway!" 

“We weren’t doing anything like that!”

“Weren’t you?”

His face flushed. “I mean, not quite?”

“Classy. You wanna know what I think, Dib? I think you were the ‘girl’ all along, and I was just too stupid to see that.” Her voice went soft as she looked aside, “Well, you know what? It doesn’t matter. You can have him.”

"I don't want him! This is all a big misunderstanding!"

"Yeah, right. Zim has done nothing but talking and talking about you for WEEKS.”

“...He has?”

Dib’s mind raced. “What has he said?”

She had already gone. 

A vicious glee seized him. 

Warmth bloomed in his chest.

He had won. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, 2020 ended up being quite a surprise, eh? Thanks for the wait and sticking with me on this- the wait shouldn't be nearly as long for the final chapter! Special shoutout to the folks who left me comments recently- your encouragement meant the world :)


End file.
